Saturday, April 11

We have come to Stockmann to buy something or other. We don’t find it, but we do find something else.

We can count the number of customers on our fingers, without using our thumbs. The staff greet us effusively, as though glad to have human company for a little while.

I wander around looking at the signage stuck to the floors. It now includes notices on social distancing. However, this frayed sign pointing to the lifts catches my attention, and I stop to photograph it.

We will go to Prisma to buy some craft beers and ciders. Since we decided to replace indrustrial “cider” with actual cider we have drunk less with more pleasure at more expense.

This seems reasonable.